House Guest Again
by arekasadara
Summary: Katherine spends her first week as a human in a bit of a slump, and overstays her welcome at the Salvatore boarding house. Damon calls Stefan for help, and Katherine bugs Jeremy.
1. Chapter 1

_(I guess it must really be Silas, so we'll just say he's been quite good in the role so far.)_

* * *

"Brother."

"Okay, I get that you're trying to do the moving on thing, so you know that I wouldn't call if it wasn't an emergency."

"Did you try 9-1-1?"

"And he bought himself a sense of humor to go with his new life. Listen, Stef, you have to get her out of here."

"Who, Katherine?"

"She's driving us crazy. I'm _this_ close to killing the bitch once and for all."

"What's stopping you?"

"Oh, I don't know, an inconvenient conscience. I would just wait it out and maybe Elena would strangle her... but unfortunately I think human Katherine has become too pathetic to kill in cold blood."

"So you two can't even handle a human Katherine Pierce? Oh, how the mighty have fallen, Damon."

"Look, she's been here two days and already she's drunk her way through half of my best whiskey, spilled wine on the Persian runner upstairs, ground potato chips into both the sofas, eaten all the Rocky Road. There are takeout boxes in every freaking room, she flooded Jeremy's bathroom after flushing an empty cigarette carton down the toilet... Oh, and she blew out your Bose speakers."

"What? What was she doing in my room? I locked the door when I left."

"Come on, Stefan, I've been picking that lock for years. I doubt Katherine had a problem with it."

"Damon, what has she been doing in there?"

"Sleeping in your bed, mostly. And blowing out your speakers."

"I'll be there tomorrow morning."

"Where have you been, anyway?"

"Scoping out foreclosures."

"That answers the 'what,' not the 'where.'"

"Never you mind the where. See you tomorrow."


	2. Chapter 2

~2~

"Scooch over, Jer-bear."

Katherine, munching on dry cereal, collapsed languorously next to Jeremy on his couch, her hip brushing his arm. Sighing loudly, Jeremy shifted himself so that at least a foot separated them. He resumed staring at the television, pretending to watch the movie while he stewed about the new unwelcome presence beside him.

"Aw, don't be like that." She reeked of bourbon. "Lucky Charms?"

Not looking at her or the proffered bowl, Jeremy said, "You seriously don't have any actual friends to crash with, after hundreds of years? That's pretty pathetic."

"Oh, yes, isn't it," she slurred, tossing a handful of Charms into her mouth. A few pieces landed on the couch between them, and she chewed while she continued to talk. "Believe me, I'm well aware. Finding my one true bestie hasn't really been a priority. You know, what with the - the..." - she gestured unsteadily toward a space behind her - "the target on my back."

Jeremy had been trying to keep reminding himself that he's lucky to be alive again, and that Bonnie's sacrifice is something he should never take for granted. And he did feel lucky - Elena was recovering well from her no-humanity stint, and he himself had been readjusting to life in the real world without much trouble. Still, he had come to the conclusion that being under voluntary house arrest - at least until they could come up with a way to explain his sudden return - probably wouldn't be so bad if his killer wasn't pestering him every minute of it.

He took a deep breath and resolutely watched the people moving on the screen, though he barely saw them. Katherine continued to mumble her woes, and his effort to tune her out, combined with his inability to focus on the movie, resulted in a kind of buzzing that surrounded his head like a cloud of gnats.

Suddenly a cascade of Lucky Charms flowed onto the couch, rolling down into the couch's crevices and spilling onto the floor.

"Oops," giggled Katherine, and she leaned over to grab a handful and put it back into her now empty bowl. Jeremy could feel the pulse in his inner ear throbbing.

"My, my, little Gilbert," she added, "how you've grown!"

Jeremy tolerated Damon calling him by that nickname, but this bitch using it was crossing a line. He was ready to stand and leave when he felt her hand stroke his bicep, and it was like her touch had triggered an explosion inside of him. With lightning-fast reflexes he swung his arm up and grabbed her wrist, sending the few bits of cereal she had recovered flying across the room, along with the bowl. He finally looked directly at her, and he saw that her eyes had widened, but not yet with fear - he sensed that she was too drunk to react appropriately to the murderous intent he felt must be radiating from him as adrenaline surged through his body.

Within seconds, however, he had felt the pulse in her wrist beneath his fingers. It was not the sluggish, almost lazy flow of blood through a vampire's veins, but the light, quick pulse of a human. Though he wanted more than anything to backhand her to next Tuesday and tell her to shut the hell up, he realized that he wouldn't - couldn't - and instead he relinquished her arm, stood up, and left before she could say anything else that might provoke him. He pretended not to hear her laughter trickle down the hallway after him.


End file.
